


Fever Dreams

by RestlessBluebird



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 19:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3861943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RestlessBluebird/pseuds/RestlessBluebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nihlus is sick, Saren personally sees to his care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever Dreams

Nihlus turns and coughs, chest still heavy, as he attempts to find a comfortable spot in bed. Fevered and congested, the victim of an undetermined but non-fatal illness, Nihlus groans and laments his circumstances as he buries his head between his pillows. Truly the one silver lining of this whole situation was being doted on by Saren. _Nurturing,_ he thinks. _Never a word I'd have associated with him_. But it was Saren who stood by his bedside and wiped his brow, helped him to the shower when he couldn't stand, fed him when he couldn't bear to look at food, and knelt at his side when he failed to keep the aforementioned food down.

It'd been about a week since he'd first gotten sick. Nihlus blames the weather, Saren blames the questionable sushi he ate from the even more questionable bar. All in all, it felt good having Saren fuss over him. If he doesn't think too hard about it, he can imagine that Saren actually cares for him from more than just a logical point of view. That, perhaps, the big ass even loves him.

"Do you need anything before I go?" Saren asks from the doorway, adjusting his gloves. He's dressed, not in his typical armor-or any armor at all for that manner- but a sleek, all black outfit. He was clearly dressing to impress, or intimidate...maybe both.

Nihlus rolls over, giving Saren a once –and twice- over. "Nice outfit.” he says, clearing his throat "And just where are you off to?"

"Supplies." he says matter of factly. "We'll need more food if we're going to make the trip out into The Verge."

Nihlus sits up slowly, straightening his posture in bed. "That doesn't seem too difficult. I could join you."

"No. You need your rest."

"I'm not even--"

"I said no. Now, if there is nothing you require, I will take my leave. And if you plan on sneaking out, you'd better be back before me or I'm leaving you on this cesspool of an asteroid."

"Understood, Saren." Nihlus huffs, crossing his arms and waiting a bit before he calls out.

"Give Gavorn my regards."

He can hear Saren's steps falter for just a moment before the airlock door hisses shut behind him.

The new quiet of the ship descends on him like a fog. He regrets his jab, but only slightly; he'd blame his bitterness on the fever if anyone asked. After all, it was no secret that Saren had other relationships. No, _relationship_ was too strong of a word. Saren had bedmates, nothing more and nothing less. And sadly, as much as Nihlus wished he was one of them, the ever elusive Spectre hadn't given him an iota of interest in that department.

Nihlus sighs and retreats back under the covers in a funk. Here he was, chest congested, weak and sick, and Saren was out fucking some random turian in the nice part of the slums on Omega. _I should have at least asked for some_ libae.

Time passes and Saren returns, the chiming of the airlock waking up a dosing Nihlus. He can hear the sound of crates dropping and scraping the floor, followed by footsteps.

"I'm surprised to see you still in bed Nihlus. Perhaps there is some hope of you listening to me after all."

Nihlus yawns, sitting up in bed. "I was going to steal your ship, but I still don't know where you hide the _sacrai_ so I decided to stay."

"How kind of you."

"I try." he rasps out, gesturing at the bag in Saren's hand. "What's that?"

"Medicine. I was told this is the strongest."

"What is it?"

"Do you trust me?"

A long pause and then he replies "yes," failing to hide the slightest hint of unease. This wasn't the first remedy Saren had prepared for him. There were three in fact, each more vile--and ineffective-- than the last. "I trust you."

"Good, then take off your shirt."

Nihlus eyes him suspiciously. "Exactly what kind of medicine is this?"

"It is a salve, and I'd rather you not spill it on the sheets. It was very expensive."

"Alright fine." he says, unbuttoning his pajama top. "You know, if you wanted to see me naked, you could have just asked."

Saren says nothing as he replaces his satin gloves with latex ones. He then pulls back the covers, carefully uncorking the vial and pouring a liberal amount on the younger man's chest.

"Ahh! That's cold!" Nihlus groans, twitching as the elder turian’s slim fingers massage the ointment into his dry, aching plates.

"Is that better?" Saren asks, in a voice much softer than Nihlus is accustomed to.

"Yeah, actually it is. It's warming up. Is it supposed to do that?" he asked with a hitch in his voice.

"Yes. It works on your body's natural heat. The warmer you are, the faster it works."

"I'm starting to feel better already." Nihlus groans as his body relaxes under Saren's tender ministrations.

"Excellent. To speed the process along I could turn up the heat if you wish, and give you extra blankets. However, if you are of a mind, I can think of a better alternative. "

"What is it?"

Saren strips off his latex gloves, moving his hand under the covers to rest on Nihlus's upper thigh.

"Shall I continue?"

"Y-yes." Nihlus' chest pounds as Saren flips the cover completely off and runs a single talon over Nihlus' slit.

"Be still, you'll need your energy" he hisses as he lowers his head onto Nihlus' widening plates.

Nihlus's body goes rigid as Saren's tongue traces his slit, delving inside to his hardening cock, flicking the tip once he makes contact. When it finally emerges, dark brown and slick with his own juices and Saren's saliva, the elder turian wraps his hand around it, stroking lazily as he wraps his tongue around the head.

Saren's movements are achingly slow. Nihlus feels every twitch and flick of Saren's tongue, hot and soft. Nihlus' attempts to gain harder contact are punished as Saren pumps even slower.

"Saren, please!" the younger man keens, fists clenched tightly in the sheets.

Caught between the receding fog of his sickness and the new feel of his cock down Saren Arterius's throat was too much. He tries desperately to hold on, to savor the moment lest it never happen again. He pants harder and harder, his breathing growing more and more shallow, subvocals crying out for more as Saren’s pace increases. He thrusts his hips up, fucking himself in his former mentor’s palm. He looks down through heavy lidded eyes at the silver turian and is met with piercing blue eyes staring back at him.

Saren growls low and lustful, never breaking eye contact as he strokes, increasing the pressure ever so much. "Come for me, Nihlus" he purrs as the younger man finally reaches a hard climax.

He cries out, his back arching off the bed as his talons leave gashes in the sheets through to the mattress underneath, his breath coming in short shallow gasps.

He looks over at Saren, who is standing over him now, lazily licking his cum from his fingertips. Nihlus' eyes grow heavy as he feels the weight of the blankets on his body once more.

He smells arousal and ozone as Saren bends over him, nipping a short trail down his neck.

"When you recover, I'm going to take you over every inch of this ship. Sleep well Nihlus."

As he lays there in post coital bliss and shock, he registers a warm tingling sensation where Saren rubbed the salve earlier. His only thoughts are of sleep and wellness. After all, it is a big ship.


End file.
